


Disciplinary Measures

by everlovingdeer



Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [178]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attraction, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hogwarts Professors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22986871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlovingdeer/pseuds/everlovingdeer
Summary: “Enough talk about Ron?” I repeated incredulously, having to remind him, “You came all the way here to discuss your brother.”“And wedidand you told me that it wasn’t anything too bad, so I think we’re done now. I’ll tell him not to get caught next time.”“Bill -”He spoke over my protests with a charming smile, “So, what’ve you been up to Griffith?”
Relationships: Bill Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Bill Weasley/Reader
Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [178]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1461751
Comments: 1
Kudos: 210





	1. Disciplinary Measures

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to other sites on 19/02/2020
> 
> Also, this is the last of the stories that I've already written and posted. From now on, the stories will be posted onto ao3 at the same time as they're posted to other sites

Alchemy, of all the subjects taught in this school, was one of the least popular. It was because it was mainly theoretical and students rarely saw the results for the work they put in - the results would come years down the line if they pursued their studies further. Very few did. The few students who took the subject very rarely went on to study the subject further. 

The demand for the subject was so rare that Hogwarts didn’t even have a full-time alchemy professor. And so, when the demand for the subject had been enough this year, I had been drafted in to teach the subject. The position was only guaranteed for two academic years and that suited me just fine, it certainly tided me over during this particular lull in my career. My research had hit a bump and I knew I needed a different environment to stimulate me into thinking differently.

I was honoured to be given the chance to work in the school, and yet, I couldn’t help but second guess my heartbeat decision to return to Hogwarts to teach. As a teacher that taught only one N.E.W.T.s level, sixth-year class, three times a week, any extra activities fell directly into my lap. The other teacher’s side-eyed me often enough because I was the youngest teacher and because I had more than enough free time to help Flitwick with the frog choir, to oversee the Gobstone club (which had been shut down by Umbridge, thankfully one last thing for me to do) and to have more than my fair share of detentions to monitor. It wasn’t fair, I had signed up to teach so I could use my spare time to research. And yet, there was very little time for research. Especially when I had all this marking to do. 

I always tried my best not to assign too much homework but then McGonagall had drawn me aside and implied I’d made Alchemy too easy a subject to pass so I’d resorted to an essay a week. Somehow I’d managed to inspire an interest in a particular student who had decided to crank up the number of essays they wrote because they had so much they wanted to research. Godric, I couldn’t even be mad because they reminded me of me when I’d first gotten interested in Alchemy. 

Still, it was past curfew and my eyes were growing tired, so I decided to call it a night. It was the weekend tomorrow and I _could_ have had a lie-in if Flitwick hadn’t asked me to help with the choir tomorrow because he had a date he needed to go on. My chances of sleeping in disappeared because of the guilt I felt about not pulling my own weight. 

With a murmured spell, I gathered all the essays and the tests I needed to mark into a single pile. Charming the pile to follow after me, I grabbed my bag and prepared to head into my chambers. Passing through my classroom, I bypassed the door to my office and double-checked that it was locked and my research was safe, before continuing on my way out. Charming and warding the door to my classroom shut, I cast a _lumos_ and started the trek to the other side of the castle. The very last thing I needed was to bump into another teacher - especially if that teacher was Snape who seemed to have more of an issue with having a former student as a member of the faculty. Personally, I thought he needed to get off his own damned high horse and realise how an older member of staff like McGonagall or even the Headmaster felt. 

Thankfully, if I remembered correctly, Snape wasn’t on patrol today so there was no chance of running into him. And, if the students had any sense, they would make sure to keep out of sight and would _hear_ the clacking of my heels against the floors and would know to turn and run away or even to hide behind the tapestry. I’d certainly do them all a favour and ignore the portraits and the ghosts that tried to rat them in - the last thing I needed was to take points and issue detentions or even to fill in the bloody paperwork that came alongside taking points away. I never realised until I became a teacher, that we had to justify taking points away and if it was found unfair, we could expect to report to more senior members of staff. Really, I couldn’t help but wonder how some teachers got their biased points taking approved. 

It seemed, not all the students had the survival instinct to listen out for approaching footsteps. And, to my great shame, it was members of my own house that were letting the side down. They really weren’t helping the rumours that Gryffindor was the house of the stupid - even if Granger was one of our own. Merlin, they had no business to be skulking around like this, especially in the middle of the night. They were just lucky that _I_ had been the one to stumble across them, and not Umbridge. 

“ _Why_ am I not surprised?” I asked loud enough to startle the three students I’d stumbled across. Putting on my best ‘I’m-the-teacher-I’m-in-charge’ face, I stated firmly, “Mr Potter, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger, _what_ are you doing out so late past curfew?”

“Um,” Mr Weasley started, standing between Mr Potter and Miss Granger, struggling to string a sentence together. When he continued to flounder, he fell silent, glaring at Granger who elbowed him in the side. 

“We got lost,” Mr Potter started and I struggled not to roll my eyes. If he was going to be sneaking out, then he needed to have better excuses.

“Do you expect me to believe that?” 

“We’re sorry, Professor Griffith,” Miss Granger started, clasping her hands together and looking the picture of innocence, “We were researching in the library and happened to stay past curfew. By the time we realised it, we were trying to get back to the common room and didn’t want to get in trouble.”

“You and I both know that Madam Pince shuts the library down ten minutes before curfew begins,” I said, growing tired of hearing excuses. Shaking my head to silence them, I spoke firmly, “As per the rules, I’m going to have to take 5 points away from each of you for being out past curfew.”

“But _Miss -_ ”

Speaking over Weasley, I reminded him, “If you happened to be caught by Professor Umbridge, the punishment would be far worse. Although, since Professor McGonagall has spoken with all staff regarding the discipline of members of Gryffindor house, I’m afraid that I’ll have to contact your parents and guardians. “

I let the bombshell settle in, knowing that it wasn’t often Hogwarts wrote to parents. But, with Umbridge within the walls of the school, McGonagall was being strict about the discipline of the students, not wanting Umbridge to discipline students in her stead. She claimed there was something wrong with Umbridge’s disciplinary methods, although she couldn’t be sure of it. 

“But Professor,” Weasley started with a resigned sigh, “my parents are the only ones that would turn up.”

“You should have thought about that _before_ your late-night expedition, Mr Weasley.” I gestured for the three to turn, “Now, I’m going to walk you back to your common room to ensure you get there without seeing the need to deviate from your path.”

The three, grumbling under their breath, conceded and turned on their feet. Potter tried to say something, falling silent when Granger elbowed him and then they were walking in silence. I kept pace behind them, catching the occasional glances Granger would throw me from over her shoulder as if to check I was still there. 

Finally making it to the Fat Lady, I waited for the three troublemakers to head in. Once the portrait swung shut behind them, I handed the responsibility of making sure that they didn’t leave to the Fat Lady and then continued on my way to my room. Any chances of going to bed early were shattered; I had to justify _why_ I’d taken the points away and I had to write letters to three sets of parents and guardians to request their presence. Off the top of my head, I knew Potter’s family wouldn’t respond, the Grangers would likely send back an _extremely_ apologetic letter but because they were muggle, they wouldn’t come and Merlin knew what the Weasleys would do. 

It was going to be a long night. 

* * *

Really, I should have known better. I’d been here long enough and I should have known better than to think that having to meet with the parents I’d contacted would be passed down to me. It was something I should have thought of even when I was written the stupid letters to the guardians of Weasley, Potter and Granger. If I knew that because McGonagall was busy making Umbridge’s time at Hogwarts hell, that I would be the one meeting the guardians. If I’d known it, I wouldn’t have sent the letters at all.

I’d never met the guardians of students before, and yet, here I was, preparing to do it. I mean, this was my first year - and hopefully, not my last - year as an Alchemy Professor but really - shouldn’t McGonagall or someone else have been with me to make sure that I didn’t make a fool of myself? I didn’t want to make a bad impression of myself as a teacher, and it was freaking me out. Godric knew that my anxiety had kept me up all night, refusing to let me fall asleep until minutes before I needed to wake up for the day. 

My day, packed with other responsibilities and only one class, refused to give me any time to even take a nap. All the periods were filled up with tutoring or overseeing other classes as Professors went off somewhere and I even had to monitor a detention that Sprout had handed off to me. She wanted me to make sure the detention was tedious enough to ensure that the students never even accidentally got themselves in detention once more. I had no idea what I was going to do. Maybe I’d have them sit and watch as I conducted my research? Or have them help compile the test I was going to give to my sixth year students. Considering the student I had to monitor was a third year, they’d be bored out of their mind. 

Shaking my head and leaning back in my chair, I breathed out a tired sigh - I kept getting distracted. As of late, the school environment hadn’t lived up to my expectations of clearing my mind. Instead, I kept getting distracted whether it was something small like being surprised at something that had changed since my time at Hogwarts, or even being surprised at how something _hadn’t_ changed _._

“Godric, I’m getting distracted again,” I complained aloud this time. 

Reaching a hand back for the quill I used to keep my bun in place - something my students who stumbled upon me during my research always struggled to understand - I let my hair out for the first time. After I’d finished tying it back once again, there was a knock on the door of my classroom. Glancing at my watch, I realised that it was time to meet the guardian. Wondering which of the Weasley family members would arrive, I pushed away from my desk and walked out into my classroom and went to the door. 

I opened the door, expecting it to be one of Ron Weasley’s parents - it wasn’t. It was someone much too familiar. 

Standing on the other side of the door to my classroom with his fist raised as if to knock again was Bill Weasley. An old housemate I hadn’t seen since we’d both left Hogwarts and clearly, from the way his eyebrows shot towards his hairline, he hadn’t expected to see me either. But really, he wasn’t as surprised as I was - he couldn’t be because I severely doubted he was overcome with the same rush of awareness that I was. It was like I was back in seventh year, crushing on the bloody Head Boy who had such a mischievous smile that didn’t suit the title of Head Boy at all. I’d thought my feelings had faded away after we’d left school, heading off in our own pats of life and yet, here they was, returning once more as if we hadn’t been out of school for 7 years. 

“Come in,” I said quickly, realising that we were lingering in the doorway. 

Turning my back to him and using the chance to recover my nerves, I led him into my office. I was a _teacher_ and he was here as the guardian of a student. Bill followed behind me, saying nothing as I tidied up my office with a wave of my wand. Reclaiming my seat behind the desk, I watched as Bill finally took his seat across from me. For a moment, we just looked at each other and I certainly didn’t know what to say to him. Eventually, he broke the silence with a smile - the very same smile that spelt trouble for my fragile heart. Some things really didn’t change.

“I can’t say I expected to see you Griffith,” he said with a slight chuckle, that had me relaxing despite the anxiety that had followed me around whenever I thought about this meeting. 

“I didn’t expect to see you either,” I admitted honestly. 

“It’s not a bad surprise.” He offered the sentiment as if expecting me to return it but I couldn’t be so sure - it wasn’t a good surprise or a bad surprise, I didn’t think. Bill watched as I worried the corner of my lip with my teeth and spoke to fill the silence. He’d always had a knack for reading the silent signs, “Mum would’ve come, but Dad’s in the hospital and she didn’t want to leave him. So I offered and Ron would definitely rather have me here.” 

“I’m sorry for having to call you out during such a difficult time for your family.” 

“It’s no problem, Griffith” he assured, shifting in his chair. Realising he’d chosen the uncomfortable chair - the one that Filch was supposed to look at tonight - I wordlessly summoned the cushion I’d taken to using to pad the chair. Levitating the cushion onto his lap, I pretended not to notice his thankful smile as he placed it behind him. This wasn’t the time to be getting all aflutter about a _smile_ \- he was here as the guardian of a student. “So, what’s Ronny been up to then?”

“It’s nothing too bad,” I said quickly, not wanting him to think Ron was up to all sorts of trouble. “But Professor McGonagall has been really strict on discipline as of late - and he and his friends had been caught out past curfew one too many times.”

Bill’s eyes shone with barely concealed amusement - sneaking out past curfew was nothing to him. If I remember correctly, he didn’t even consider it a bad deed, not when he’d perfected the art of hiding away from teachers whilst at school. Of course, then he’d become a Prefect and Head Boy and there was no stopping him for being out past curfew. I’d lost track of the number of times I’d caught him out past curfew and he’d lied effortlessly that he’d been pulled in to complete some last-minute rounds. 

“It’s the Weasley genes,” he said simply and then he rested his ankle on the knee of the other leg. “Enough talk about Ron, what’ve you been up to?”

“Enough talk about Ron?” I repeated incredulously, having to remind him, “You came all the way here to discuss your brother.”

“And we _did_ and you told me that it wasn’t anything too bad, so I think we’re done now. I’ll tell him not to get caught next time.”

“ _Bill -”_

He spoke over my protests with a charming smile, “So, what’ve you been up to Griffith?” 

“Research mainly,” I conceded, knowing that we wouldn’t actually talk about his brother anymore. It was my own fault for saying it wasn’t anything big. Me and my bloody mouth. “But I guess enough students wanted to take Alchemy for N.E.W.T.s so I’m a professor until they’ve sat their N.E.W.T.s.”

“Professor Griffiths,” Bill said slowly, considering me with a tilted head. Before I could ask him why he was looking at me like that, he teased, “I bet you’ve got loads of the students crushing on you.”

“Stop it,” I protested, cheeks flaming. It was like we weren’t adults - like he was teasing me before a Prefect’s meeting again.

“Sorry, I forgot how easy you were to fluster.” He didn’t sound apologetic in the least. Then, he added, “Even though you didn’t ask, I’ll let you know about me. I became a Curse-Breaker after school.” 

I just nodded, not really wanting to ask him about his profession. Instead, I was more curious about the long hair and his earring. From what I remembered about the letters his mother sent sometimes, she wouldn’t approve of either. 

“You really haven’t changed at all,” Bill said finally, bringing me from my thoughts. I offered him an apologetic smile but he just laughed, goodnaturedly, “You get lost in your thoughts so often and you’ve still got that quill in your hair.” 

I lifted a self-conscious hand to my hair and cleared my throat pointedly, “We really need to talk about Ron but I have detention I need to monitor soon.”

“Don’t worry, I get it.” Still, he showed no signs of moving, instead, he offered, “Owl me and we can arrange another meeting.”

“I don’t think we need to meet again?”

“No, owl me,” he insisted so persistently that I could only nod. 

* * *

In the end, because we really did need to discuss his brother and the concerns the other teachers had regarding Ron’s dedication to revising for his O.W.L.s, I gave in and owled Bill. It wasn’t for any reason apart from my concern as a teacher for his brother’s academic welfare but somehow, in the space of a few short owls back and forth, we’d arranged to meet outside of Hogwarts so I wouldn’t be distracted. Of course, I’d tried to point out that meeting in Hogsmeade would _be_ distracting but he had the Weasley stubbornness I saw all too often in his brother. Maybe it was Gryffindor stubbornness, rather than being strictly Weasley stubbornness. 

And yet, here I was, making my way to Puddifoot’s tea shop and waiting for him. From past experience, because it was a school day, the tea shop would be quieter than it was on the weekend with a few patrons speaking softly to each other from across their table. I’d left the castle early upon spying Umbridge on her rounds around the castle, looking for staff to help her with her Inquisitorial Squad - that at least was one thing I was _not_ getting roped into. But still, as I hurried out from the castle grounds, I kept looking over my shoulder in case Umbridge followed me out.

Only when I made it to the carriage that waited to take me down to Hogsmeade did I relax. After the short carriage ride down, I hopped off from the carriage and walked through the quiet village. It was only when I became a Professor that I realised Hogsmeade could be tranquil and peaceful. In all my time as a student, every trip down to Hogsmeade had been hectic and the streets had been full of students who swanned between each of the shops. 

Finally making it into Puddifoots, I let the door close behind me as I looked around the shop in search of the best empty table. But it was pointless because there, sitting at a corner table was Bill, waiting for me. Spying me, he lifted his hand into the air and waved. I hurried towards him with apologetic steps. 

“Sorry,” I said the moment I was within earshot, quickly taking a seat across from him. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting for me.”

“It’s no problem,” he assured me, watching as I shrugged out of my coat and draped it over the back of my chair. 

I realised he was still watching me as I removed my scarf from around my neck. I said nothing of it, but only until I set my bag in my lap and was rifling through it in search of the parchment of notes I’d taken of all the things we needed to discuss during our meeting. 

“I passed your brother on the way down into Hogsmeade,” I started, looking to him for an explanation, “He didn’t seem aware that we were meeting to discuss him. Although, you were right, he was relieved that I was speaking to you and not your mother.” 

He shrugged his shoulder as if to say I told you so. But then, he reached out, putting a hand on top of mine when I finally found the parchment. Startled at the contact, I looked up at him from under my lashes and I knew my confusion was obvious to see when he went on to suggest, “Let’s order first, yeah?”

“Oh, right.” 

Accepting the menu from Bill, I looked over the selections of teas and cakes, making my choice. Bill, asking for my order, headed straight to the till and placed the order in. Even as I protested from behind him, Bill paid for our orders and refused to accept money when I tried to hand it back to him. He made a comment about me making him feel bad and so I finally tucked away my purse. 

I had the patience to wait until he was seated once more and comfortable before referring to my parchment of notes. He gave the parchment an amused look which, I quickly realised faded when he strained his neck to nosily get a look at what I had scrawled across it. Even before I could say a thing, the way he was looking at me - disappointed, I realised quickly, he looked disappointed - stopped me from saying a thing. 

“So, this is really about Ron?”

“Yes,” I said hesitantly, falling silent when our tea and cakes were brought over to the table. Pouring myself a cup, I looked at Bill as he did the same. Drawing my cake towards me, I randomly poked at it with my fork, studying Bill closely. He was struggling to meet my eyes. “Did you not think that we were meeting to discuss Ron?” 

“No,” he said, ever straightforward. Propping my forearms on the table top, I leaned towards him. When he looked at me, I found that even if I wanted to, I couldn’t look away. I wanted to see his face as he spoke; I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him so straight face before. “I thought this was going to be a date, Griffith, to make up for that Hogsmeade weekend I was owed all those years ago.”

Drawing my forearms back, I pressed my back against the chair. He didn’t even need to say anything more, I knew exactly what or even _when_ he was talking about. “You remember that?”

“Does that seem like something I would forget?” 

“Honestly, yes.” Breaking off a bit of my cake, I popped it into my mouth so I had something to do. “It was years ago, Bil.”

“And you still haven’t given me an answer.” Sighing incredulously, I tried to formulate some sort of response. But it was unnecessary with Bill continuing, “Maybe it was my fault, anyway. I knew how reserved you were and I still made a spectacle of it.”

“You really did.” He gave an amused huff at my obvious displeasure. “But maybe that was the Gryffindor in you.” 

“Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced as he finally took a sip of his tea. It was enough to remind me that I hadn’t drunk mine either. Lifting my own teacup to my lips, I listened as he pointed out, “You’re a Gryffindor too, you can’t use it as a justification.”

“Well, there’s more than one type of Gryffindor.”

“There is.” Pausing, Bill considered me. I remained sitting before him, not saying anything as he came to his own conclusions about something. Although I really did want to talk to him about Ron because even if I didn’t teach him, I still had a responsibility to him, I knew that Bill wouldn’t appreciate another mention of his brother. “So, this isn’t a date then. Maybe next time.” 

“Next time?”

He nodded, “Next time. Now that I’m based in England, there’s no reason to lose contact again.”

“I suppose not,” I agreed with a slow smile, tucking my parchment out of sight. “How’s your father? Is he still in the hospital?” 

* * *

Somehow, I fell into the habit of owling Bill Weasley back and forth. The very first thing I did in the morning was check my letters where a letter from him was always waiting. I took my time to respond to him, sending the letter back and I was likely to get one back within a couple of hours. We exchanged multiple letters back and forth throughout the duration of the day and I was sure that by the end of the week we’d exchanged near enough one hundred. I understood that since it was officially the Christmas holidays and I had essentially a clean schedule consisting of only my research and extracurricular activities, I was free to write to him. But surely he was busy? Gringotts was likely to never have a slow day - regardless of whether it was the holiday period or not. 

As it _was_ the holiday period and I still had some preparations I needed to do for the next term’s lessons, I needed to withdraw some funding. The Headmaster had given me express permission to take money out from Gringotts to get the funds I needed to invest in the newer elemental textbooks given that the ones the school stored were out of date. Of course, I didn’t see why I had to be the one to do it all but I supposed that was the price I paid for being the Professor of a subject that relied on the amount of interest students showed in it.

It took time and a lot of magical effort to apparate down to Diagon Alley to check into Gringotts. Making it into the busy street, I took some time to recover from the taxing travel and then hurried through the overcrowded streets of holiday shoppers and approached the bank. I couldn’t even imagine how many people were currently there.

Sure enough, when I walked into the bank, there was a ridiculously long line and I knew exactly why Professor Dumbledore had sent _me_ to run this errand. Clearly he thought I had the time to spare whilst waiting in the queue for who knew how long when really I had research I needed to conduct. Even if it looked like my research was going nowhere.

Reluctantly joining the end of the queue, I silently congratulated myself on having the last minute idea to shove a tome into my bag. The book, one I was hoping would be the last puzzle piece that would give me my much-needed breakthrough, was one I was reading at every possible chance. Fishing the book out, I made it steadily through an entire chapter as the line steadily moved forward. Reaching the final page of the chapter, I heard a throat clearing and realised I had reached the front. 

Snapping the book shut, I approached the goblin who waited impatiently for me. Tucking my book back into my bag, I offered the goblin a smile that he didn’t return and instead continued to watch me from behind his glasses. 

“I need to recover some money from the Hogwarts bank account,” I started and even before he could ask for it, I reached into my bag and drew out the letter that Professor Dumbledore had given me to hand to the goblin. I even drew out my identification papers to assure them that I _was_ a member of staff as well as the key for the account.

“Thank you, Miss Griffith,” the goblin said after verifying all my papers. Then, taking the key from me and handing it off to one of his coworkers, he assured me, “You can just wait a moment and we’ll have the money recovered.”

“Thank you,” I said, once more accepting all the papers and tucking them safely into my bag. It didn’t take long for the goblin to return with my money, held safely in a bag. Accepting the bag and opening it, I did a quick check of the money and reassured that it was all there, I thanked them once more and prepared to leave.

As I stepped out of the line, shoving the money securely into my bag and prepared to leave the bank. Although, before I prepared to head home, maybe I could pop in somewhere to get a drink and relax. I didn’t want to have made this trip for no reason. But before I made it out of the bank, there was a call of my name. Thinking I’d left something behind, I turned quickly and started, not having expected to see Bill walking through the crowd towards me. 

“If you were going to be visiting work, you should’ve told me,” he said, making his way over towards me. 

“I was only popping in for a few minutes,” I said simply, not quite able to look at him. 

“I bet you didn’t tell me so you could avoid me for longer,” he said knowingly, taking my arm and gesturing for me to continue on my way out. “I’ve got a lunch break now, let’s go and get some food.”

Without protest, I let him lead me out and into one of the nearest restaurants. I realised, quite quickly that he was giving me a pointed look and I knew I had to address it. Clearing my throat, I said softly, “I wasn’t avoiding you.” 

He scoffed disbelievingly as we took to the nearest empty table. We were quickly approached by a waitress and without even looking at the menu, Bill rattled off his order. I just ordered the same as him and when we were left alone, I wondered what to say because I _had_ in one way or another been avoiding him and he knew it. All my protests were pointless. 

And like he knew exactly what I was thinking, he pointed out, “You haven’t responded to the letter I sent you yesterday.” He watched as I shuffled guiltily in my chair and assured me, “I’m not going to press it, don’t worry.”

But I did worry. A lot. I worried because ever since I’d received the letter, I’d read it multiple times and had tried to write him a response. Only, each response I’d ever written had found its home in my fireplace. I had no idea how to respond to his earnest wish of wanting to go on a date with me, and I’d certainly tried. I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t want him, I was just - for the first time since I could remember - rendered inarticulate. 

“I live in the castle,” I started abruptly, startling him. He didn’t outwardly show his surprise, even as he proposed his arms on the table and leaned forward slightly to show me that I had his attention. Clearing my throat and hoping I spoke slowly, pacing myself, and that my words didn’t run into one long sentence the way they did whenever I got too overwhelmed, I started once more, “I live in the castle. For the next two years, for 9 months out of the entire year, I’m going to be living in the castle, surrounded by students. Living there, it doesn’t give you the chance to date, to have much privacy at all.”

Even when I halted to let the waitress give us our food and to hopefully disappear and _not_ listen to our conversation, he just continued to watch me, giving me the chance to say everything that was on my mind. I was thankful for it, that he didn’t interrupt me and was letting me speak. 

“Being a Professor at Hogwarts means I have the responsibility to teach the students,” I said steadily, reaching for my cup. Swirling my straw around the glass, I listened to the ice as it touched the sides of the glass. “I also have to supervise them and to be a role model and upon starting there, I was told the importance of being responsible in the way I carry my business there. There isn’t a ban - but it, whatever it is, has to be discreet and the students shouldn’t become overly concerned with people that aren’t staff coming in and out of the castle.”

For a long moment, he said nothing and I worried that I’d managed to scare him off. Then, without looking away from me, he reached for his glass. With his straw, he took a long sip and then set it down once more. “So what I’m hearing is that I can’t spend the night in your quarters. Or rather, if I do, I won’t be able to have breakfast with you in the Great Hall?”

He flashed me a teasing smile, laughing when I visibly deflated in my chair, “I’m trying to be serious here.”

“That’s your problem Griffith, you’re way too serious.” He reached out to put his hand on mine where it rested on the tabletop. “Let’s not deal with the castle business right now. How about we start by meeting outside of the castle? Sometime during the rest of the holiday?”

Turning my hand under his, I offered him a small smile as my fingers curled around his wrist, “I’d like that.” 

* * *

I’d realised that Bill Weasley had this uncanny knack of convincing me to do things that I previously insisted that I wouldn’t do. Somehow, even though I refused to meet him in Hogsmeade for what we agreed was our first official date - which was ridiculous when I considered just how many times we’d met up over the space of the Christmas holiday - and yet, we _were_ meeting up in Hogsmeade. When I figured out just how he was convincing me to do this, then we were going to have a conversation. Or I’d just figure out how to outsmart him so he didn’t out manoeuvre me. Godric, he should have been a Slytherin.

Standing before the mirror in my quarters, I gave my reflection one more look before checking the time. We were supposed to meet soon. 

We’d met before - so many times that I’d managed to lose count - and so I shouldn’t have been so concerned about the way I looked or even being so worried about not looking pretty to him. Not when we’d gone so many of these trips together and yet, I was worried. Just labelling today with the word ‘date’ had me so nervous and I knew that if we hadn’t made a point of explicitly stating that this was a date, I wouldn’t have been all aflutter. 

A knock on the door of my chambers brought me from my anxious thoughts. There was no more time to be worrying about why the word date carried so much pressure. Walking quickly to the door and knowing that despite it being the holidays, there were students who didn’t return home, I quickly opened the door to find Bill standing on the other side with flowers held out to me. 

He outstretched the bouquet with a glorious smile, “Here -”

Quickly taking the flowers from him and cutting him off halfway through his sentence, I returned to my room, letting the door separate the pair of us. Transfiguring a quill into a vase, I cast an _aguamenti_ and filled it before setting the flowers inside. I studied them for only a few seconds before growing conscious of Bill still lingering in the corridor. Snagging my bag and my coat, I hurried out of my chambers and locked the door behind me. 

Looking up at a still confused Bill, I explained, “We should get out of here quickly.”

“You’re so worried,” he said with a disbelieving laugh. When I nodded hurriedly as if trying to stress how desperately I wanted to leave, Bill only laughed warmly. Accepting my bag without even a murmur of protest, Bill watched as I shrugged into my coat. “You really didn’t even invite me inside.”

“Because we need to get out of here quickly,” I insisted again, taking my bag back from him. Mischievously, he pointedly slowed his steps down and fought a smile when I made a noise of protest. 

“You’re right, we should probably wait for that. I don’t think our relationship is there yet either.” I held his eyes, holding my hand out to him and shaking it impatiently. Consenting with a half chuckle, Bill gave me his hand and let me lead him out of the castle with the shortcuts.

We were out of the castle and into Hogsmeade in record time. Now that I’d left the castle and the majority of the students who remained behind, I could breathe easier. Bill, like he knew exactly what I was thinking, reached out to grab my hand and brought me closer to him. We walked, matching our steps and with our hands swinging between us through the village that was partly decorated in preparation for the New Year and the other with lingering Christmas decorations. 

Approaching one of the few remaining stalls from the Christmas market, I studied one of the lingering baubles. Trapped inside the glass ball was a miniature figurine of a red-figure seated in a sleigh and flying around the perimeter. A hand, warm despite the cold weather, settled on my waist as Bill leaned closer to me so he could get a good look at the bauble. 

“One year, when we were smaller, Charlie accidentally smashed one of these baubles,” Bill confessed, “the Santa figuring escaped and we spent the entire day chasing it around the house, trying to hide it before mum saw.”

“Did you manage to catch it?” I asked, turning my back to the stall and giving Bill all my concentration. Even with me so close to him, he didn’t move away. Standing close enough that I swore I could feel the heat radiating off of him, Bill looked down into my face with an expression I knew meant he wanted to kiss me. But, because I was curious, and I was conscious of a lingering stall keeper, I prompted, “Well?” 

“Eroll, our owl, ate it.” He laughed, remembering the event as he added, “He almost choked on it and dad had to make him spit it out. Mum wound up finding out and she made us double up on chores for breaking a bauble, destroying the house whilst trying to retrieve the Santa and for almost killing Eroll.”

“Sounds to me like you got off easy.” I reached a hand up, preparing to push some of his hair back behind his ear. Only, I found myself stopping when some of my students walked past, elbowing each other and giggling when they saw me. Lowering my hand bashfully to my side, I tried to move on. But I knew Bill had seen it all, given the way he was looking back at the students as they walked. 

“Is that why you were so quick to leave the castle?” he asked, taking my hand and leading me away from the stall. Bill’s hand, that had seen so warm minutes ago, was turning freezing in the cold. I held his hand between both of mine, lifting it towards my mouth and trying to warm them with my breath. He knew all too well that I was avoiding answering the question, “You’re scared of teasing teenagers?” 

“... I wouldn’t say I was _scared_ of them.”

“I would say it.” His smile softened, tucking our joined hands into his pocket as we continued towards the tea shop. “You’re like this because you never grew up with siblings taking the piss out of you.”

“ _Stop_.” Hitting him with my free hand, I rolled my eyes when he had the nerve to laugh. 

“You need to forget about being a Professor,” he said decisively as if it was an easy thing. “You’re not just a Professor.” 

* * *

The school term was officially underway once more and I was quickly remembering and _missing_ the quiet of the castle during the holidays. With all the students returning once more, the corridors that were previously clear at all times of the day were packed so tight that it was a battle of getting through and I certainly hadn’t missed being responsible for discipline. As far fewer students remained during the holiday, there was less behaviour to regulate and fewer points to take away - there were certainly no detentions to look over. I knew it was only a short moment before everything was underway again. 

Tomorrow, when the lessons began, the detentions and all my other responsibilities would begin as well. There would be very little chance to focus on my own research and I certainly couldn’t be able to drop what I was doing and make a note of what I thought was a breakthrough. Not that I had much chance to do that during the holiday. Especially when there was a red-haired distraction hanging around me who was _far_ too pleased with being able to distract me from my research. Except, he hadn’t really let me focus on schoolwork either. Somehow, Bill got it into his head that I could continue pushing back the tests I needed to mark and spend time with him, insisting that I’d find the time somewhere. And yet, here it was - the night before lessons began and I had yet to mark the tests.

As if that _really_ wasn’t bad enough, he was _still_ trying to stop me from getting my work done. The faculty, because the rules weren’t as strict for the welcoming feast of the Easter term, didn’t have to attend the meal. So I’d eaten in my classroom, along with Bill and wrongly thinking he would leave me be. It was a stupid assumption to make on my part - to believe that he had enough maturity and experience as an adult to leave me be when it came to my work. 

“ _Bill!”_ I exclaimed, dropping my head when he managed to smuggle the essays off from my desk when I’d turned my back for just _one second_ to get the red coloured inkwell. It was my own fault really, for leaving him unattended for that long.

“Why don’t you pay me any attention?” he asked, smiling even in the face of my irritation, “You haven’t been paying me any attention all day.”

“I didn’t even call for you today,” I said pointedly, ignoring the way he gave me an animatedly saddened frown. “Don’t pretend that I called you here and ignored you. You’re here because you’re avoiding your mother.”

“And _why_ am I avoiding my mother?” When I tried to reach for the test papers, he held them away from me, having the audacity to hold my shoulder with his spare hand to put more distance between them. “Because I have a secret girlfriend who isn’t willing to meet my mother.” 

“Don’t try to pin that completely on me.” Pointing at him with the feathered end of my quill before setting it and the ink well down on the table. “We both agreed that we weren’t doing that right now. Can we please get back to the important thing here? Those are my student’s test papers.”

“Well then,” he drew the word out, holding them above his head and to put them even _further_ out of my reach, he rose onto his toes. “You better do everything you can to get them back, then shouldn’t you?”

And so we finally got to the point. No longer reaching for the test papers, I set my heels back onto the floor with a sigh. Giving him an annoyed and firm look, I contemplated crossing my arms over my chest but I decided against it. He’d already teased me for looking the part of a Professor when I was getting worked up. 

“Name your price, Weasley.” 

Pleased, he smiled, looking annoyingly smug as he did so. He leaned down as if to kiss me, only I darted away at the last minute. Ignoring his disappointed sigh from behind me, I quickly reached the open door of my classroom - that I’d told him to close and he’d _ignored_ me when I said it, and finally shut the door. 

“Trying to be discrete in this castle is going to kill me,” I declared resting my back against the closed door. 

Easily, he insisted, “It’ll get easier as we do it.”

“You’re not the one on the verge of getting a heart attack every time - you’re enjoying this too much.”

“It’s like fulfilling a fantasy I had whilst at school - snagging the young hot teacher for myself.” Making a face at his confession, I tried not to sigh when he asked, “So you don’t want these test papers back then?” 

“You’d better leave after,” I said, finally pushing away from the door and reaching for Bill. 

He smiled, setting the test papers on the desk behind me and reached for me. If he hoped to distract me from the fact that he hadn’t agreed to leave, then he had another thing coming - 

Although, when he lifted me onto the desk, his hands coming to rest on either side of me to frame me in, I had an inkling that he really was going to distract me. And all too easily at that. Lifting my chin to reach for Bill, I finally kissed him like he’d been wanting and let him lead it as he wanted. Before I realised it, my hands were in his hair, making a mess of the soft hair he’d tied back. He’d complain about it later as he had to retie it, but the self-satisfied smirk on his face would tell me what he really felt. 

“- _BUGGERING HELL!”_

We were so lost in one another that we didn’t hear the door opening. But we certainly heard the horrified shriek that I soon realised belonged to a different red-haired male. Pushing Bill away from me with a rough shove and realising that at some point his hand had crept under the hem of my skirt to rest against my thigh, I tugged the hem of my skirt down. With a mortified breath, I hopped off of the desk and rounded on the three students who had entered the room. Of course, of _course_ it would be the so-called Golden Trio. 

“Can I,” Bill snickered behind me, having the time of his life as I fidgeted with my hair and tried my best to sound like a professional adult, and not a professor who’d been caught making out with her boyfriend. These weren’t even students _I taught!_ “Can I help you with something?”

“Professor Griffith,” Granger started, roughly elbowing the younger Weasley who had turned so red that he could be a mascot for our house. Was Ron breathing properly? He peeked a glance between me and his brother, seemingly unable to look at me for too long before he turned hurriedly to show us his back. 

“We don’t need anything,” he declared aloud, grabbing Potter by the arm and dragging him out of the room. Potter was equally desperate to get away, and when Granger remained, Ron called out, sounding a little shrill from the hallway, “You can ask her about Alchemy syllabus later, _let’s go_.” 

When Miss Granger reluctantly left with her friends, I was left to look at the empty doorway they’d walked out of. Turning to face Bill who still had the nerve to laugh like this situation was funny, I widened my eyes in a silent _See, I told you!_

Between his laughter, he warned me, “Mum is going to know by the end of the day. I guarantee it. The entire school will somehow find out - you’d better be prepared, Griffith.” 

Narrow eyed, I dodged his arms when he tried to embrace me again. “I _knew_ I shouldn’t have let you in today.”


	2. Epilogue: 6 Years Later

_6 YEARS LATER_

The students of Hogwarts continued to show interest in Alchemy, and I had a feeling it was to do with the more recently highly publicised breakthroughs that Alchemists had made around the world. After my first two years teaching at Hogwarts, I had been granted a year-long break due to a fall in interest and I’d used that year to my benefit, managing to make much-needed advances in my own research. However, when the following year rolled around, the Professor once more enlisted my services as the Alchemy Professor and it was now my fifth year in a row teaching at the school. 

A lot had changed within those five years and I’d become closely acquainted with the procedures Hogwarts had regarding married couples and visitation. That was the downside of being a Professor, I spent more time away from Bill than I did with him and even the nights when he stayed in the castle with me, he couldn’t stay here for more than a week or so because of his work. But we’d promised, and I’d made arrangements with the Headmaster for my position to be taken over if interest in Alchemy persisted. Next year, I would finally step down as the Alchemy Professor at Hogwarts and a student that I’d taught, one of my very first Alchemy students, was lined up to replace me. 

It was a welcome change, life would only continue to change and I understood why working as a Professor at Hogwarts wasn’t cohesive to the happiness of married couples. The long days we spent apart weren’t easy to navigate, not when I knew how much Bill hated returning alone to our home. The home that was supposed to be a physical representation of _us_ and yet, I couldn’t have spent a year in total within its walls. My husband, hating loneliness, often returned to his parent’s home and good Godric, the letters I got from my mother-in-law after one of those visits made the decision to resign all too easy. 

She didn’t like Bill being on his own - I didn’t either - but it wasn’t like we _never_ saw each other. Bill was always searching out reasons to linger in the castle for longer than he strictly needed to. He claimed that wasn’t what he was doing, but what other reason did he have for giving the seventh year Gryffindors a talk about what being a curse-breaker involved. I looked around my classroom and it was packed to the brim with seventh years with red and gold ties who were hooked onto each word my husband spoke about his work.

Those that were interested had taken time out of their own schedules to listen to his talk, and as a member of faculty, I had to remain to _supervise._ Really, all I was doing was sitting behind my desk and listening to this talk for the second time today. The Ravenclaws had already had this talk and he was planning on speaking to the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins in the upcoming days. And _then_ he was planning on giving an extra talk for anyone who had missed the others - _that_ was how I knew he was desperate to remain close to me. Not that I could blame him. If anything, I understood his more recent clinginess. 

As Bill reached the end of his talk, wrapping up his reports of the last _unclassified_ mission he had been on, he turned expectantly towards me, offering me a wink that had me rolling my eyes. Shaking my heads, I watched as Bill dropped back from where he stood at the front of the classroom to rest against my desk. He crossed his legs at the ankle, crossing his arms over his chest and giving the students the chance to ask him anything. To my surprise, although that opportunity was returned with silence, there _were_ questions. By the time he’d steadily made his way through the questions, it was time for the students to go or else they’d miss dinner. 

“I think we’re going to bring this to a close,” I spoke up still from where I sat, reclined in my desk chair that had been magicked to make it extra comfortable. 

Pressing a hand flat against the top of my desk, I prepared to use it to hoist myself up and out of the chair. Bill, knowing I needed the help, rounded the desk and snagged both of my hands. Holding them firmly, he eased me out of my chair and laughed when I made sounds of effort. Even when I shot him a look, he didn’t hold back his chuckling. When Bill released my hands, I went to round the desk, to take the place he’d just vacated and he pressed a hand to the small of my back as I passed him. Finally addressing the students, I realised they were waiting for permission to leave. 

“Thank you all for coming,” I said, looking over the students who were packing away the notes some of them had taken. “If you have any other questions, then you can ask Bill - he’s going to be roaming around the castle for the next few weeks.”

“Until the kid pops out,” Bill added from behind me, before considering, “If I can, I might be here a little longer after that - until Easter holiday begins.”

“You heard him.” I looked at the clock and clapped my hands once, “Right, any last-minute questions are going to have to wait - if you don’t go now, you’re going to miss the beginning of dinner. And you don’t want to turn up late to find that they’ve run out of what you want to eat.”

Just the chance of missing out on food had the students clambering out of the room. On their way out, they called out their thanks and chatted amongst themselves about the missions BIll had clearing from Gringotts to discuss with them. When the last student had left the room, I started to make my way around the room, tucking any stray stools under the desks and summoning random pieces of parchment that had been left lying around. I realised, by the time I turned back to Bill, that he had joined me in cleaning up the classroom.

When the last stool had been tucked away, Bill asked aloud, “I thought Hogwarts had a maternity leave policy?”

Rubbing a hand over my stomach, I took my time to think before admitting, “I don’t think I’m going to come back after the Easter holiday.”

Bill approached me then, his protests already on his lips, “You don’t have to do that, I can be at home and if it’s Mum -”

“It’s not your mother,” I assured him. It wasn’t completely her anyway. “I don’t think I’d be able to do it - to leave you and our baby and come to Hogwarts even if it was for a single term. We’ve already started the process of handing responsibility off - I and Cecely are working in partnership so she can see the way I teach before she’s left alone.”

“Are you sure?” Bill asked, taking my arms when he reached my side. His hands slid down to my hands, grasping them and squeezing them reassuringly. “We can work something out?”

“No,” I said certainly, lifting my head so I could look him in the eyes. Offering him a reassuring smile, I insisted, “I’m ready to go home.” 

“If you’re sure?” His words were soft as he reached up to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Although, I’m beginning to wonder when our little surprise is going to pop out.”

“I’ve been having nightmares where I give birth during class and traumatise my students.”

Bill, snorting out a laugh, burrowed the sound in my neck when I slapped his neck. But, he didn’t abate. Even when he lifted his head from it’s place to wonder, “Do you think our child will be the first born in Hogwarts - actually, scratch that..” 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I started dryly, “but too many teenagers have passed through the school for that to be true.” 


End file.
